One Night With The Italian Doc: Unwrapping Her Italian Doc / Tempted by the Bridesmaid / Italian Doctor, No Strings Attached

About the Authors

CAROL MARINELLI recently filled in a form where she was asked for her job title and was thrilled, after all these years, to be able to put down her answer as ‘writer’. Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation. After chewing her pen for a moment Carol put down the truth—‘writing’. The third question asked: ‘What are your hobbies?’ Well, not wanting to look obsessed or, worse still, boring, she crossed the fingers on her free hand and answered ‘swimming and tennis’. But, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, and the closest she’s got to a tennis racket in the last couple of years is watching the Australian Open, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!

ANNIE O’NEIL spent most of her childhood with her leg draped over the family rocking chair and a book in her hand. Novels, baking, and writing too much teenage angst poetry ate up most of her youth. Now Annie splits her time between corralling her husband into helping her with their cows, baking, reading, barrel racing (not really!) and spending some very happy hours at her computer, writing.

KATE HARDY has always loved books, and could read before she went to school. She discovered Mills & Boon books when she was twelve and decided this was what she wanted to do. When she isn’t writing Kate enjoys reading, cinema, ballroom dancing and the gym. You can contact her via her website: katehardy.com.

One Night with the Italian Doc

Unwrapping Her Italian Doc

Carol Marinelli

Tempted by the Bridesmaid

Annie O’Neil

Italian Doctor, No Strings Attached

Kate Hardy

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09302-6

ONE NIGHT WITH THE ITALIAN DOC

Unwrapping her Italian Doc © 2014 Carol Marinelli Tempted by the Bridesmaid © 2017 Annie O’Neil Italian Doctor, No Strings Attached © 2011 Pamela Brooks

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Title Page

Copyright

Unwrapping Her Italian Doc

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Tempted by the Bridesmaid

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Italian Doctor, No Strings Attached

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

About the Publisher

Unwrapping Her Italian Doc

Carol Marinelli

‘ANTON, WOULD YOU do me a favour?’

Anton Rossi’s long, brisk stride was broken by the sound of Louise’s voice.

He had tried very hard not to notice her as he had stepped into the maternity unit of The Royal in London, though, of course, he had.

Louise was up a stepladder and putting up Christmas decorations. Her skinny frame was more apparent this morning as she was dressed in very loose, navy scrubs with a long-sleeved, pale pink top worn underneath. Her blonde hair was tied in a high ponytail and she had layer after layer of tinsel around her neck.

She was also, Anton noted, by far too pale.

Yes, whether he had wanted to or not, he had noticed her.

He tended to notice Louise Carter a lot.

‘What is it that you want?’ Anton asked, as he reluctantly turned around.

‘In that box, over there …’ Louise raised a slender arm and pointed it towards the nurses’ station ‘… there’s some gold tinsel.’

He just stood there and Louise wondered if possibly he didn’t understand what she was asking for.

‘Tin-sel …’ she said slowly, in the strange attempt at an Italian accent that Louise did now and then when she was trying to explain a word to him. Anton watched in concealed amusement as she jiggled the pieces around her neck. ‘Tin-sel, go-o-old.’

‘And?’

Louise gave up on her accent. ‘Could you just get it for me? I’ve run out of gold.’

‘I’m here to check on Hannah Evans.’

‘It will only take you a second,’ Louise pointed out. ‘Look, if I get down now I’ll have to start again.’ Her hand was holding one piece of gaudy green tinsel to the tired maternity wall. ‘I’m trying to make a pattern.’

‘You are trying, full stop,’ Anton said, and walked off.

‘Bah, humbug,’ Louise called to his departing shoulders.

Anton, had moved to London from Milan and, having never spent a Christmas in England, would have to find out later what that translated as but he certainly got the gist.

Yes, he wasn’t exactly in the festive spirit. For the last few years Anton had, in fact, dreaded Christmas.

Unfortunately there was no escaping it at The Royal—December had today hit and there were invites galore for Christmas lunches, dinners and parties piling into his inbox that he really ought to attend. Walking into work this morning, he had seen a huge Christmas tree being erected in the hospital foyer and now Louise had got in on the act. She seemed to be attempting to singlehandedly turn the maternity ward into Santa’s grotto.

Reluctantly, very reluctantly, he headed over to the box, retrieved a long piece of gold tinsel and returned to Louise, who gave him a sweet smile as she took it.

Actually, no, Anton decided, it was far from a sweet smile—it was a slightly sarcastic, rather triumphant smile.

‘Thank you very much,’ Louise said.

‘You’re more than welcome,’ Anton responded, and walked off.

Anton knew, just knew that if he turned around it would be to the sight of Louise poking her tongue out at him.

Keep going, he told himself.

Do not turn around, for it would just serve to encourage her and he was doing everything in his power to discourage Louise. She was the most skilled flirt he had ever come across. At first he has assumed Louise was like that with everyone—it had come as a disconcerting, if somewhat pleasant surprise to realise that the blatant flirting seemed to be saved solely for him.

Little known to Louise, he enjoyed their encounters, not that he would ever let on.

Ignore her, Anton told himself.

Yet he could not.

Anton turned to the sight of Louise on the stepladder, tongue out, fingers up and well and truly caught!

Louise actually froze for a second, which was very unfortunate, given the gesture she was making, but then she unfroze as Anton turned and walked back towards her. A shriek of nervous laughter started to pour from Louise because, from the way that Anton was walking, it felt as if he might be about to haul her from the ladder and over his shoulder. Wouldn’t that be nice? both simultaneously thought, but instead he came right up to her, his face level with her groin, and looked up into china-blue eyes as she looked down at the sexiest, most aloof, impossibly arrogant man to have ever graced The Royal.

‘I got you your tinsel.’ Anton pointed at her and his voice was stern but, Louise noted, that sulky mouth of his was doing its level best not to smile.

‘Yes, Anton, you did,’ Louise said, wondering if he could feel the blast of heat coming from her loins. God knew, he was miserable and moody but her body responded to him as if someone had just thrown another log on the fire whenever he was around.

On many levels he annoyed her—Anton checked and re-checked everything that she did, as if she was someone who had just wandered in from the street and offered to help out for the day, rather than a qualified midwife. Yet, aside from their professional differences, he was as sexy as hell and the sparks just flew off the two of them, no matter how Anton might deny that they did.

‘So why this?’ Anton asked, and pulled a face and poked his tongue out at her, and Louise smiled at the sight of his tongue and screwed-up features as he mimicked her gestures. He was still gorgeous—olive-skinned, his black hair was glossy and straight and so well cut that Louise constantly had to resist running her hands through it just to see it messed up. His eyes were a very dark blue and she ached to see them smile, yet, possibly for the first time, while aimed at her, now they were.

Oh, his expression was cross but, Louise could just see, those eyes were finally smiling and so she took the opportunity to let him know a few home truths.

‘It’s the way that you do things, Anton.’ Louise attempted to explain. ‘Why couldn’t you just say, “Sure, Louise,” and go and get the tinsel?’

‘Because, as I’ve told you, I am on my way to see a patient.’

‘Okay, why didn’t you smile when you walked into the unit and saw the decorations that I’ve spent the last two hours putting up and say, “Ooh, that looks nice”?’

‘Truth?’ Anton said.

‘Truth.’ Louise nodded.

‘I happen to think that you have too many decorations …’ He watched her eyes narrow at his criticism. ‘You asked why I didn’t tell you how nice they looked.’

‘I did,’ Louise responded. ‘Okay, then, third question, why didn’t you say hello to me when you walked past?’

For Anton, that was the trickiest to answer. ‘Because I didn’t see you.’

‘Please!’ Louise rolled her eyes. ‘You saw me—you just chose to ignore me, as I’m going to choose to ignore your slight about my decorations. You can never have too much tinsel.’

‘Oh, believe me Louise, you can,’ Anton said, looking around. The corridor was a riot of red, gold and green tinsel stars. He looked up to where silver foil balloons hung from the ceilings. Then he looked down to plastic snowmen dancing along the bottom of the walls. Half of the windows to the patients’ rooms had been sprayed with fake snow. Louise had clearly been busy. ‘Nothing matches.’ Anton couldn’t help but smile and he really tried to help but smile! ‘You don’t have a theme.’

‘The theme is Christmas, Anton,’ Louise said in response. ‘I had a very tinsel-starved Christmas last year and I intend to make up for it this one. I’m doing the nativity scene this afternoon.’

‘Good for you,’ Anton said, and walked off.

Louise didn’t poke out her tongue again and even if she had Anton wouldn’t have seen it because this time he very deliberately didn’t turn around.

He didn’t want to engage in conversation with Louise. He didn’t want to find out why she’d had a tinsel-starved Christmas the previous year.

Or rather he did want to find out.

Louise was flaky, funny, sexy and everything Anton did not need to distract him at work. He wasn’t here to make friends—his social life was conducted well away from the hospital walls. Anton did his level best to keep his distance from everyone at work except his patients.

‘Hannah.’ He smiled as he stepped into the four-bedded ward but Hannah didn’t smile back and Anton pulled the curtains around her bed before asking his patient any questions. ‘Are you okay?’ Anton checked.

‘I’m so worried.’

‘Tell me,’ Anton offered.

‘I’m probably being stupid, I know, but Brenda came in this morning and I said the baby had moved and I’m sure that it did, but it hasn’t since then.’

‘So you’re lying here, imagining the worst?’

‘Yes,’ Hannah admitted. ‘It’s taken so long to get here that I’m scared something’s going to go wrong now.’

‘I know how hard your journey has been,’ Anton said. Hannah had conceived by IVF and near the end of a tricky pregnancy she had been brought in for bed rest as her blood pressure was high and the baby’s amniotic fluid was a little on the low side. Anton specialised in high-risk pregnancies and so he was very comfortable listening to Hannah’s concerns.

‘Let me have a feel,’ Anton said. ‘It is probably asleep.’

For all he was miserable with the staff and kept himself to himself, Anton was completely lovely and open with his patients. He had a feel of Hannah’s stomach and then took out a Doppler machine and had a listen, locating the heartbeat straight away. ‘Beautiful,’ Anton said, and they listened for a moment. ‘Have you had breakfast?’ Anton asked, because if Hannah had low blood sugar, that could slow movements down.

‘I have.’

‘How many movements are you getting?’

‘I felt one now,’ Hanna said.

‘That’s because I just nudged your baby awake when I was feeling your stomach.’

He sat going through her charts. Hannah’s blood pressure was at the higher limits of normal and Anton wondered for a long moment how best to proceed. While the uterus was usually the best incubator, there were times when the baby was safest out. He had more than a vested interested in this pregnancy and he told Hannah that. ‘Do you know you will be the first patient that I have ever helped both to conceive through IVF and deliver their baby?’

‘No.’ Hannah frowned. ‘I thought in your line of work that that would happen to you all the time.’

‘No.’ Anton shook his head. ‘Remember how upset you were when I first saw you because the doctor you had been expecting was sick on the day of your egg retrieval?’

Hannah nodded and actually blushed. ‘I was very rude to you.’

‘Because you didn’t want a locum to be taking over your care.’ Anton smiled. ‘And that is fair enough. In Italy I used to do obstetrics but then I moved into reproductive endocrinology and specialised there. In my opinion you can’t do both simultaneously, they are completely different specialties—you have to always be available for either. I only helped out that week because Richard was sick. I still cover very occasionally to help out and also because I like to keep up to date but in truth I cannot do both.’

‘So how come you moved back to obstetrics?’

‘I missed it,’ Anton admitted. ‘I do like the fertility side of things and I do see patients where that is their issue but if they need IVF then I refer them. Obstetrics is where I prefer to be.’

The movements were slowing down. Anton could see that and with her low level of amniotic fluid, Hannah would be more aware than most of any movement. ‘I think your baby might be just about cooked,’ Anton said, and then headed out of the ward and asked Brenda to come in. ‘I’m just going to examine Hannah,’ Anton said, and spoke to both women as he did so. ‘Your cervix is thinning and you’re already three centimetres dilated.’ He looked at Brenda. ‘Kicks are down from yesterday.’

Anton had considered delivering Hannah last night and now, with the news that the kicks were down combined with Hannah’s distress, he decided to go ahead this morning.

‘I think we’ll get things started,’ Anton said.

‘Now?’

‘Yes.’ Anton nodded and he explained to Hannah his reasoning. ‘We’ve discussed how your placenta is coming to the end of its use-by date. Sometimes the baby does better on the outside than in and I think we’ve just reached that time.’ He let it sink in for a moment. ‘I’ll start a drip, though we’ll just give you a low dose to help move things along.’

Hannah called her husband and Anton spoke with Brenda at the nurses’ station, then Hannah was taken around to the delivery ward.

All births were special and precious but Anton had been concerned about Hannah for a couple of weeks as the baby was a little on the small side. Anton would actually be very relieved once this baby was out.

By the time he had set up the drip and Hannah was attached to the baby monitor, with Luke, her husband, by her side, Anton was ready for a coffee break. He checked on another lady who would soon deliver and then he checked on his other patients on the ward.

Stephanie, another obstetrician, had been on last night and had handed over to him but, though Anton respected Stephanie, he had learnt never to rely on handovers. Anton liked to see for himself where his patients were and though he knew it infuriated some of the staff it was the way he now worked and he wasn’t about to change that.

Satisfied that all was well, he was just about to take himself to the staffroom when he saw Louise, still up that ladder, but she offered no snarky comment this time, neither were there any requests for assistance. Instead, she was pressing her fingers into her eyes and clearly felt dizzy.

Not my problem, Anton decided.

But, of course, it was.

CHAPTER TWO

‘LOUISE…’ HE WALKED over and saw her already pale features were now white, right down to her lips. ‘Louise, you need to get down from the ladder.’

The sound of his voice created a small chasm between the stars dancing in her eyes and Louise opened her eyes to the sight of Anton walking towards her. And she would get down if only she could remember how her legs worked.

‘Come on,’ Anton said. This time he did take her down from the ladder, though not over his shoulder, as they had both briefly considered before. Instead, he held his hand out and she took it and shakily stepped down. Anton put a hand around her waist and led her to the staffroom, where he sat her down and then went to the fridge and got out some orange juice.

‘Here,’ he said, handing the glass to her.

Louise took a grateful gulp and then another and blew out a breath. ‘I’m so sorry about that. I just got a bit dizzy.’

‘Did you have breakfast this morning?’

‘I did.’ Louise nodded but he gave her a look that said he didn’t believe a word. Anton then huffed off, leaving her sitting in the staffroom while he went to the kitchen. Louise could hear him feeding bread into the toaster.

God, Louise thought, rolling her eyes, here comes the lecture.

Anton returned a moment later with two slices of toast smothered in butter and honey.

‘I just told you that I’d already had breakfast,’ Louise said.

‘I think you should eat this.’

‘If I eat that I’ll be sick. I just need to lie down for a few minutes.’

‘Do you have a photo shoot coming up?’ Anton asked, and Louise sighed. ‘Answer me,’ Anton said.

‘Yes, I have a big photo shoot taking place on Christmas Eve but that has no part in my nearly fainting.’

Louise was a part-time lingerie model. She completely loved her side job and took it seriously. Everyone thought that it was hilarious, everyone, that was, except Anton. Mind, he didn’t find anything very funny these days.

‘You’re too thin.’ Anton was blunt and though Louise knew it was out of concern, there was no reason for him to be. She knew only too well the reason for the little episode on the ladder.

‘Actually, I’m not too thin, I’m in the healthy weight range,’ Louise said. ‘Look, I just got dizzy. Please don’t peg me as having an eating disorder just because I model part time.’

‘My sister is a model in Milan,’ Anton said, and Louise could possibly have guessed that, had Anton had a sister, then a model she might be because Anton really was seriously beautiful.

Louise lay down on the sofa because she could still see stars and she didn’t want Anton to know that. In fact, she just wanted him gone. And she knew how to get rid of him! A little flirt would have him running off.

‘Are my hips not childbearing enough for you, Anton?’ Louise teased, and Anton glanced down and it wasn’t a baby he was thinking about between those legs!

No way!

Louise had used to work in Theatre—in fact, she had been the nurse who had scrubbed in on his first emergency Caesarean here at The Royal. It had been the first emergency Caesarean section he had performed since losing Alberto. Of course, Louise hadn’t known just how nervous Anton had been that day and she could not possibly have guessed how her presence had both helped and unsettled him.

During surgery Anton had been grateful for a very efficient scrub nurse and one who had immediately worked well with him.

After surgery, when he’d gone to check in on the infant, Louise had been there, smiling and cooing at the baby. She had turned around and congratulated him on getting the baby out in time, and he had actually forgotten to thank her for her help in Theatre.